Seven Ways We Understand Each Other
by Queen Elenya Hawk
Summary: Roy and Riza didn't always need words to communicate. 7 one-shots set in different times of their lifes. Genres vary: romance, drama, adventure, humor.
1. Stolen

_Author's note_: This is a set of one-shots; each chapter is an individual story. Written for Royai Week 2014, the challenge was to create something related to the prompts given beforehand, one prompt per day. Having not taken the time to write them before the week started, I wrote them each on the same day they had to be posted, coming up with an idea, writing it and posting it every day for seven consecutive days. This is the result of a stressing (but gratifying) writing marathon.

**Stolen**

Two knocks on the door were enough to distract him from his paperwork. Riza entered without waiting for a response, with the natural confidence of someone who had called this office (or any office in which Roy Mustang had ever settled), her own workplace for a very long time.

"Lieutenant!" he said surprised. He hadn't expected to see her today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that.

"Excuse me, sir. The Führer is sending back a few documents you've forgotten to sign."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, have I?"

She approached his desk and handed him a file with said documents. Indeed, he had written those but his signature was missing.

He frowned. "I'll have to be more alert. This happened because I don't have my attentive assistant anymore."

"You were used to having someone double-check your paperwork before submitting it." He nodded in agreement.

As he took a pen to sign them, he extended his left arm across the desk and held her hand, his sight fixed on the papers. "How are you?"

She closed her hand around his. "Fine." He huffed.

He noticed her taking the cup of steaming coffee that was before him, and watched as she drank from it. She stared at him as well from over the cup before setting the object back to its place.

"Are you done with that?"

"Yes," he said as he closed the folder and released her hand.

She took the file. "Please, try to get some rest, sir. Coffee won't be enough."

So she could see how tired he was. "I'll have it in mind," he said with a wry smile.

"Well, then." She saluted him and he stood up to return the gesture. "Have a nice day, Colonel."

"You too, Lieutenant."

Riza walked towards the door and stopped when she opened it, smiling at him for all of two seconds before stepping out of the office and disappearing from his view as the door clicked shut.

Roy sat down and sighed soundly. He wondered how long it would be before things went back to normal. He took the cup by the handle and turned it curiously around. He smirked; of course she had left the slightest lipstick smear on it. He drank the hot beverage, allowing it to warm his body. Somehow, it tasted much better than it did two minutes ago.

He grabbed the report he was skimming through before she arrived and started to read it. Bradley may have stolen the most precious piece of his game, but he would take his Queen back in the end.


	2. Constant

**Constant**

Riza stepped out of the bathtub of her hotel room and wrapped her body in a towel. She had been very careful not to get her hair wet; she couldn't afford to ruin the beautiful hairdo she had gotten earlier by a rather strange friend of Winry's called Garfiel. While keeping her side bangs, she wore a bun from which a few tresses fell delicately to her shoulders in the shape of soft curls.

Edward's wedding would take place in only two hours, and she was glad they had asked her to be the maid of honor; Roy, on his part, would be the best man. As happy as she was for the young couple tying the knot, she was also enjoying the process of dressing up and couldn't wait to see her reflection once she was ready. It wasn't often she attended formal celebrations.

When she was done with her make-up, she dropped the towel and walked to the bed where her dress was waiting. It was a long-length, sleeveless, turquoise gown that covered entirely her back and neck; perfect for her needs.

She heard Black Hayate approaching her and she turned her head to look at him, but something else called her attention. Behind her on the wall there was a huge mirror, much bigger than the one she had in her apartment. As such, since she was still naked except for a panty, and her back was facing the glass, she could see every detail of her damaged tattoo.

It wasn't that she hadn't seen it before, but more times than not, she had evaded seeing it if she had any intentions of ending her day with some peace of mind.

The transmutation circle etched in her skin was a constant reminder of things that had only brought her pain: her body being used as an object; her father losing his mind over alchemy, which estranged their relationship; the burden of carrying a dangerous secret and having to undress in front of someone if she deemed the person worthy of getting the knowledge; every single person who was murdered because she had chosen to trust.

The burn scars that obscured the tattoo, though, were the constant reminder that she had been set free, laying down the bonds to her father and alchemy, becoming an individual with total control of her body instead of staying a human notebook. Burning the most important parts of the circle hadn't erased the deaths it had been responsible for, but there would never be another Flame Alchemist, at least.

She decided to stop thinking about those things for the moment and concentrate on the wedding. She put her dress on, one leg at a time. Then she pulled up the zipper on her back- it got stuck. She froze with worry, but was quick enough to tell herself to take a deep breath and not panic about it. Reaching down from over her shoulder, she tried to extend her arm and grab the little object, but didn't quite get to it. She tried to pull it back down, see if she could fix the problem taking the dress off and holding it in front of her. It didn't move downwards either.

Frustrated, she pondered over her options. Ripping it off was one of them, and then she would have to desperately ask every woman in Resembool if by any chance they had a spare dress she could wear. Another option could be not attending the wedding at all, which was immediately crossed out of her mental list, since she was the maid of honor and it would be taken as a terrible insult. She sighed and looked at the phone. She knew what she had to do; she just wished she didn't have to resort to that.

* * *

She opened the door to find Roy Mustang in the hallway. He had a grin on his face and started to talk as she let him in.

"Fullmetal had some sort of nervous breakdown; you should have seen-"

He silenced himself and stood immobile for a moment when he noticed her appearance. He scanned her from head to toe, taking in her beauty.

"You look wonderful!" he said breathlessly.

She smiled wryly. "Thanks."

He frowned; he knew he had been called for something specific. "What is it?"

She pursed her lips. "I need your help." She turned around and showed him her back. Half of her tattoo was covered by the dress; the other half was still visible. "It got stuck," she explained. "I couldn't even take it off."

He flinched as he understood her problem. Nobody but the two of them knew about the Flame Alchemy transmutation circle on her skin. She couldn't have just asked anyone for help, no one else should know about it.

He nodded and walked until he stopped behind her. He had learned the circle by heart; had seen her naked back a hundred times. For him, too, it was a constant reminder of what he had done. If she hadn't showed it to him in the first place, he wouldn't have used its power to kill innocents. If he hadn't used its power to kill innocents, she wouldn't have asked him to burn her. If; if…

He got a hold of the slider, and after a little struggle, he managed to fix it. He pulled it up, his fingers softly brushing her skin, and he felt her shiver.

He lay a hand on her shoulder. "There," he said, and removed his hand as she turned to look at him.

She smiled sincerely. "Thank you. I hope I haven't caused any setbacks."

He shook his head. "Only for yourself. But there's still some time, don't worry."

"No, I'm done now."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you going barefoot?"

Her eyes grew wide. "Oh!" He laughed.

"I'll leave you alone, so you can get ready," he said walking towards the door.

"Yes. Thank you, General. See you at the reception."

He held the door handle and faced her with a smirk. "If you think you'll need help later, I volunteer to take off your dress."

He got out and closed the door before being hit by the pillow that was thrown across the room.


	3. Crossover: Young Royai-Hansel and Gretel

_Author's note:_ The prompt here was AU/Crossover, so basically I could have written about anything really, but I couldn't come up with a good enough AU story in time. If I was going to write a Crossover, it had to be of something everyone was familiar with instead of some modern popular fandom, so I chose Hansel and Gretel, a classic children's story, and you will find I mention certain elements in common with the canon of FMA. This is besides both my first Young!Royai and my first crossover ever, and it was really fun to write.

**AU/Crossover: Hansel and Gretel**

"I told you it wasn't this way, Mr. Mustang."

A blonde girl was walking tiredly through the woods; a boy a little older than her was barely a few steps ahead.

"No, we can't possibly be lost. I mean, we even left a trail of bread crumbs when we went to the lake to guide us back."

"Birds eat bread, genius."

He scratched his head. "Well, we shouldn't be that far. Maybe we can ask someone for help." He kept walking but noticed she wasn't following him anymore. "What are you doing?"

"What's that?" She was curiously watching what seemed to be an old detached house in the distance.

Roy smiled hopefully. "Come on, let's check it out."

When they approached the house, they noticed it was made by very peculiar elements. The door was made of gingerbread. The walls were made of chocolate. It was fascinating, like every kid's dream come true!

"This is amazing!" Roy said, so happy he was practically jumping.

"No, it's creepy. Who would live in a place like this?" When he didn't answer she turned to him. "Oh, no. Please, don't tell me you're eating somebody's house!"

He extended a hand towards her. "It's delicious! Want some?"

"Get that away from me."

The door was suddenly opened, and a wrinkled woman smiled kindly at them.

"Hello!" she said. "I see you're enjoying my creation." She frowned. "But I'd appreciate it if you didn't eat my candy cane window."

Roy was paralyzed with shame. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, I can always make more, don't you worry. I have in my kitchen, besides, lots and lots of sweets and treats that you can taste. What do you say if you come in and join this poor old woman for a little while?"

The young teenagers looked at each other before Riza answered her. "I'm sorry, ma'am. We're lost and we would like to go back home. We just wondered if you could tell us how to return."

"Absolutely. But please, let me at least make some tea for you, young lady, and I'll be glad to help you."

The kids agreed innocently and entered the house. It was like a wonderland. The place was entirely covered by cakes, cupcakes, pies, muffins, and everything in between that would make a diabetic faint just at the sight of it. Riza just drank some tea and had a couple of cookies. Roy drank chocolate milk and ate almost half a pie. Soon, they felt very sleepy.

* * *

Roy woke up on the cold floor. He sat up and looked around. Before him, there were iron bars from the ceiling to the floor; a square of the same element with a keyhole was secured with a lock. He was in a cage! He stood up stunned and took a few steps backwards. Something cracked. He froze and looked down to see what he had stepped on. All color drained from his face: it was a human bone. He was surrounded by them, an incredible amount of bones and skulls. But that wasn't all; they were all rather small, not one of them looked like they had belonged to an adult person. Just what did this woman do to children?!

He ran to the bars and saw his master's daughter sleeping on the table. "Riza!" he called her. "Riza, wake up!"

The girl opened slowly her eyes and soon remembered where she was. He looked at Roy and was surprised to see him locked up. She tried to approach him, but immediately noticed the chain that snaked around her ankles and linked her to the huge, heavy table.

"What's going on?" she asked concerned.

"I don't know, but we have to get out of here."

"Well, well, well," someone interrupted them. "I see you sleepyheads are finally up."

Roy looked at the old woman with hate. "Who are you?! What's with all these bones and why did you lock us up?"

Riza flinched in horror at Roy's words. Bones? What was going on?

The old woman cackled wickedly, startling them. "You're going to be my dinner!" she said pointing a finger at Roy. "And you," she said turning to Riza, "will be my servant."

Riza gasped. "You witch!"

Roy grunted. "We won't let you do that!" he shouted.

The woman grinned widely. "And how are you going to stop me?"

The two of them made silence. They didn't really know what they could do about it. They lowered their heads in sadness and defeat.

* * *

Later that night, the woman approached the bars behind which was Roy. She was holding a plate with a big, delicious-looking cake that she had ordered Riza to bake.

"Come here, boy. Eat this tasty cake your friend made specially for you," she said. It was strange, though, that she wasn't looking directly at him. Her eyes weren't set on anything, really.

"I'm not hungry," he lied.

Her head turned abruptly towards him. "Even then, I need you to gain weight so I can cook you… eat it!"

"No! Go away!"

She grinned evilly. "If you don't, I'll kill her."

His eyes grew wide as well as Riza's, who was listening to the exchange. Roy sighed. "Fine, fine. I'll eat." He took the plate and started feeding himself.

The cannibal marveled at the act. "Wonderful!"

* * *

For three days and three nights, the old woman had given Roy all sorts of pastries so he could grow in size and become a more substantial meal. However, the young alchemy apprentice was very smart, and had found a way to deceive the woman. Every day, she would ask him to give her a finger she could feel to see if he had fattened up. But since she was blind, she hadn't realized the boy had given her always one of the bones, thinking instead he was as thin as ever.

If things were different, he would have felt some sympathy for her. Blindness must be a terrible condition. She would never be able to see what beautiful things life put in front of her eyes. Roy was very thankful he had his eyesight, and procured to appreciate it more in the future.

Since the days passed and Roy was, according to the old woman, not fat enough, she believed he wasn't ready yet to be cooked. But she was really hungry now, and she couldn't wait any longer. So whether he was fat or thin, she would eat him. Tonight.

* * *

Riza was forced to prepare the oven. She was scared and worried; surely her father had been looking for them!

Roy was fidgeting in his cage, thinking hard what to do to escape his dark destiny. He needed to get away. If only he had a piece of chalk with him, he could draw a transmutation circle. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the floor. His eyes brightened up. Of course!

"Girl," the woman said to Riza. She was rubbing her stomach in anticipation. "Lean over in front of the oven to see if the fire is hot enough."

Riza obliged but she panicked when the woman stood tall behind her, licking her lips. She was going to be her dinner too, she realized.

"Come on," the old woman insisted. "See and tell me if it is."

Riza caught sight of something from the corner of her eye. She smirked. "It _is_ hot enough!"

The cannibal moved towards Riza's voice but she was stunned by a surprise attack. Roy shoved her into the oven with all of his strength, and Riza slammed and bolted the door shut, leaving the woman to burn inside.

"How did you manage to escape?" she asked him.

He pointed a finger towards the cage's lock. "I scratched a transmutation circle into the floor with one of the bones."

The old woman gave an ear-piercing scream of fury and pain, and they watched her die slowly, as her body turned to ashes in front of them. Roy held Riza's hand. She was still shaking from nervousness. It was the first time they both saw someone die before them, and it was the worst, most horrifying way possible to do so, even. They smelled the smoke in the air, the scent of a burnt body. How terrible. To save their own lives, they had to become murderers. They would always have to live with that, now. Their innocence was taken by a wicked old woman who disappeared between the flames.

They wished they never had to go through that again.


	4. Opportunity

**Opportunity**

It was almost noon in Central HQ when Lieutenant Hawkeye walked up to Colonel Mustang's desk with a huge, extremely muscled man following her. "Sir, Major Armstrong is here to see you."

Roy raised his head from the papers he was working on and set his sight on the blonde woman. Immediately, he recognized his fellow state alchemist's entire upper body emerging from behind her as well.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," he said to her, a barely visible smile accompanying his words, and she went back to her desk. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Major?"

"I would like to have a private conversation with you, Colonel Mustang, if you wouldn't mind." Alex Louis Armstrong was a man who had mainly only two moods: he was very emotional, or he was very serious. Today, it was the latter.

Roy made eye contact with Riza who was listening to the exchange; it lasted only a second, but the tall man noticed. The other members of his team weren't paying much attention to Armstrong's presence at all.

The Colonel stood up. "Of course; we can talk in my internal office." As he went to the smaller room, he said to Riza, "Lieutenant Hawkeye, bring us two cups of coffee, please."

"Yes, sir." Riza left, and Mustang and Armstrong entered his personal office.

Roy sat down behind his desk and Alex on the armchair before him.

"So, Major. What do you want to talk about?"

Armstrong showed him a soft, amiable smile. "You'll see, Colonel, I'm a very observant man. I often pick up on details most people wouldn't even notice." Roy raised an eyebrow and Alex crossed his arms over his wide chest. "I'm going to be direct. I've seen how you look at Lieutenant Hawkeye."

The Flame Alchemist stood cold with surprise. It was something he hadn't expected in the slightest. "What do you mean, exactly? Lieutenant Hawkeye has been my subordinate for years and we've shared a good amount of important moments. Of course I wouldn't look at her the same way I would any other female officer." The Strong Arm Alchemist nodded. "And she's nice to look at," Roy added as an after thought with a shrug and Alex chuckled softly.

Two quick knocks on the door interrupted them. Roy opened it and Riza entered with a silver tray with two steaming cups. She laid it on the desk and handed the cups to her superiors; first to Armstrong and then to Mustang. It didn't go unnoticed by the man with the yellow moustache, the way Roy's fingers touched hers when she gave him his coffee, prolonging the contact as much as possible and a second longer, even. A corner of Armstrong's lips lifted, as the brightness in Riza's eyes at the touch was also visible. Soon after, she turned to grab the tray back and walked out the door to leave them alone again.

"You were saying?" Roy continued.

The Major closed his eyes and smiled. "I understand you want to deny this, Colonel. But I'm really perceptive, and it hurts me deeply to see two people who love each other so much be unable to be together!" He opened his eyes and sincere tears were running down his cheeks.

Roy was startled, perplexed, disturbed. He frowned and handed Armstrong a paper tissue from his desk. "I'm afraid you are confused, Major. I don't have romantic feelings for Lieutenant Hawkeye. I'll admit she's very dear to me as a friend, though."

Alex smiled. "I'm not here to accuse you, Colonel, and I have no intentions of reporting you at all. Quite the contrary."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to make an offer that may benefit the two of you greatly."

Roy pursed his lips. He was interested in what Armstrong had to say, but he couldn't show it. "I insist that our relationship is strictly professional. But what did you have in mind, anyway?"

Alex looked at him with seriousness once more, the crying stopped entirely. "I would be pleased to have Lieutenant Hawkeye transferred under my command." Roy's eyes grew big at the words. "If you were under different chains of command, you would be free to be together publicly, and you wouldn't have to abide by the fraternization laws in that case."

Roy stood silent for a moment, thoughtful. This was a big, wonderful opportunity. If he resigned to work with her, he would still be able to see her, to take her out on dates, to visit her every day at her apartment, to stay the entire night. Yes, he loved her. And yes, he wished things were less complicated between them.

The Hawk's Eye, however, was an invaluable soldier that he couldn't afford to lose. Her alertness and accuracy had made her the perfect bodyguard. Her intelligence and diligence, the perfect assistant.

Besides, there was something the Major didn't know. Even if not publicly, even if not physically, he already had her, in every other sense possible.

Roy sighed. "I appreciate your concern, Major Armstrong. But I'm going to decline your offer. I stand by what I said before, and there's no need to give up my First Lieutenant. I thank you however for your good intention."

Armstrong smiled wryly; he wasn't yet convinced of what he was hearing, but he had to accept it. "Alright, then. I'm sorry to have stolen your time."

"Please, it was good talking to you."

They walked out of the room and into the main office. They saluted each other and before turning to leave, Alex said, "If you ever have a change of heart, my offer will still stand, Colonel."

Roy nodded and smiled. "You're a very kind man, Major."

Armstrong finally left, and since everyone in Roy's team had left for lunch break except for Hawkeye, Colonel and Lieutenant were now alone. She didn't make any questions, but he felt she needed to know.

After looking intently at her for a moment, he sighed. "He wanted to use the matchmaking ability that was passed down the Armstrong family for generations," he said humorously. She lifted an eyebrow. "He offered to transfer you under him."

She blinked. "…Oh. Did you tell him that Lieutanant Colonel Hughes had already tried that?"

He turned his sight to the floor. "I didn't think it was necessary. That Hughes already tried, and that we thought about it. He wouldn't have accepted a 'no' for an answer."

She approached him and spoke softly. "It's not wrong to question things sometimes, Colonel."

He looked at her sadly. "I know. But I still have mixed feelings about this."

She smirked. "Maybe I shouldn't have promised to follow you, sir."

He smiled at her. "No. I prefer it this way."


	5. Conspiracy

**Conspiracy**

Father had finally been defeated, and the Military Hospital was now crowded with the soldiers who had been wounded in battle, leaving the ones who ended up uninjured to take charge of the aftermath of the Promised Day.

Riza Hawkeye was immediately assisted. She had lost an important amount of blood and she had been struggling to stay awake when her body only wanted to faint. The cut on her neck was stitched and bandaged. She was given a small blood transfusion and soon she finally stopped fighting her tiredness and gave in to sleep. The last thing she registered was the room she had been assigned to, with an empty bed parallel to hers and a nurse covering her with the linens.

* * *

Roy Mustang wasn't sure yet how to feel about his blindness. Would it hinder his lifestyle? Would it steal away his chance of becoming the next Führer? He was sitting somberly inside a tent that had been set up within Headquarters. His worst injuries had been the holes in his hands after Bradley pierced through them with his sword. Other than that, despite being unable to see, he was good to go. His hands had been already bandaged and there was no need for him to stay overnight at a hospital.

He wondered how the Lieutenant would be doing, since she had been quickly ripped from his side by Rebecca when the battle was over and he couldn't exactly stop it; he knew she needed urgent medical care. He wanted to go with her, make her company and make sure she would be alright. It wasn't fair that they had to keep apart for months, and now that the issue with the homunculi was over, he still had to stay distanced from her.

Breda and Fuery approached him, and after a short discussion between the three about how to proceed, they agreed to take Roy back to his apartment so he could take some rest. They would pick him up the following morning to visit Hawkeye at the hospital, and once they were all somewhat settled, they would plan their next step.

The ride home was very quiet. Roy knew his subordinates were with him inside the car, but he couldn't see them; he couldn't hear them either for they weren't talking. He felt lonely. Devastated. Useless. He had every intention to stay at the Military, to continue being their commanding officer, to restore Ishval and to reach the top. As he thought the consequences his new condition would have, he realized that no, not all the time would he feel like this. When Riza was with him during the fight against Father, her, falling to pieces, and him, sightless, he felt as useful as ever, for they had complimented each other.

So concentrated was he in his thoughts, that even though he heard a few whispers and hushed giggles from the other men, he didn't register what they said. He didn't pay attention either to the movements the car made as it turned corners to take him to his apartment. He guessed he would soon learn to go on foot by heart without the help of his sight.

The vehicle stopped and they all got out. Roy lived on the third floor, but the time they spent in the elevator seemed to him a little longer than usual; he had been depending too much on his eyes, apparently. The Colonel grabbed his key from his pocket and wanted to open his door, but Breda took it from his hand and said he would open it. Roy frowned; surely opening his own door was something he could do!

But this wasn't a moment to make such comments; he was extremely thankful for the help Breda, Fuery and everyone else had given him today. Eventually, he resigned to just entering the place and lying on the bed. It felt strange, though; like the furniture wasn't exactly where it was supposed to be. But he decided he was just too exhausted, and taking some rest would clear his mind and then everything would make sense again. He said goodbye to his subordinates, and when he heard them leave, he took off his uniform and relaxed on the bed. He couldn't wait to visit Hawkeye as soon as he woke up.

* * *

Roy opened his eyes, but all he saw was darkness. He sat up fast and covered his face with his hand. He remembered. He wished it had all been a terrible dream. His blindness; the Promised Day; Riza's neck being slit in front of him, her body helpless on the cold floor as she got drenched in her own blood. He had almost lost her. He needed to see her and check on her state. He really needed to see her; now.

"Good morning, Colonel."

He froze. He'd thought he was alone. But that voice…

"Lieutenant?" he asked surprised.

"Yes. It seems like we've been assigned to the same room."

He frowned. "What do you mean…? Why are you in my apartment? Shouldn't you be at the hospital?"

She made some seconds of silence before answering. "…We are in the hospital, Colonel."

"What?" She saw him concentrate for a moment until he realized what the situation was. He huffed. "Those idiots," he said with half a smile.

Riza raised an eyebrow. "I take it you didn't know you were here?"

He nodded. "Correct."

She observed him quietly. "How are you?"

He sighed. "I can't stop thinking about it," he said touching carefully his eyelids. "But I'll have to get used to it." She smiled wryly. "How are your injuries?"

"Better. But I can't exactly make brusque movements yet."

"Do they hurt?"

She pursed her lips. She wanted to answer him, but she couldn't. And she couldn't lie to him, either.

Roy flinched. He understood. "We'll get through this."

"I know," she said softly.

"I'm not sure how, though." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "I can't read…" he said as he just came to this realization.

She bit her lip and was glad he couldn't see her sad expression. "I'll read aloud for you."

"I can't write, either…"

"You can dictate to me, Colonel. And I'll write it."

He took a ragged breath. "I can't drive."

"That won't be a problem."

"I can-"

"I'll do it." He stood silent. "I'll do it." He nodded. "This will not render you useless, Colonel. I won't let it."

He turned his head to her, eyes open. He smiled slightly. "You will always be with me, won't you, Lieutenant?"

He heard the smile in her words. "Please, stop asking that already."


	6. Memories

**Memories**

Edward Elric knew he should have delivered the report two days ago. Between visiting the Hughes and doing a few errands for Winry, he had totally forgotten about it and left it in his hotel room when he went to Headquarters. He hadn't really cared that Mustang wasn't happy with his slip-up and scolded him like a child, immediately teasing him with something that sounded pretty much like 'your memory is as small as your overall size.' To that, Ed exploded in an anger tantrum until Hawkeye stopped him.

_Hawkeye_.

She was a person Edward didn't want to discuss with. He admired her, and feared her. He didn't understand how a woman of her kind would hang around a man like Mustang, even if they were commanding officer and subordinate.

"Edward, we need that report. Please bring it as soon as possible," she had said.

And that was it. She left such an awkward feeling in him that all he wanted to do was go back to his hotel and get rid of the damn paper. But as usual, he had come across something unexpected; a new clue on the whereabouts of the Philosopher's Stone. His brother was already investigating on the matter, and they had gotten tickets to travel to that mysterious place the following dawn. That meant he wouldn't have the time to take the report to the Colonel's office before he left, and that was why he now stood at his apartment's door, knocking on the shabby wood.

The Flame Alchemist looked at him with surprise, having not anticipated the visit.

"Fullmetal! What are you doing here?"

The boy scratched his head. "Hey, Colonel. Al and I are leaving tomorrow towards the West, so I brought you the report."

Roy studied him for a moment and stared inside his apartment before looking at Ed again. "Come in. I was about to shower, but if you're leaving then hold on, I want you to tell me about it." He was only wearing a pair of pale blue pajama pants; his feet and chest were bare and his hair was disheveled, as if he had just gotten up.

"Alright," he said, and entered Colonel Roy Mustang's home for the first time.

All the furniture pieces were of the exact same tone of wood. The walls were empty except for a big, apparently interesting bookshelf, and the living room had a huge, attention-getting black sofa that seemed very comfortable. The coffee table that was before it, as well as the desk that was under the window, had both a good amount of picture frames.

"Hey, you sure have a lot of pictures, Colonel."

Roy grinned widely. "Yes. I'm very proud of my collection," he said before going to the bathroom and leaving Ed alone.

The young alchemist sat on the sofa and observed the pictures. There was one of his entire team before the HQ building saluting at the camera; another one with Roy and Hughes, an arm of each of them over the shoulders of the other. A third picture with the Colonel surrounded by a large older woman and many other girls about his age. The frame in the center of the table showed what Ed supposed was Roy as a boy, probably as old as Ed now was, and he stood happily besides a blonde little girl; funny how she reminded Ed so much of Lieutenant Hawkeye.

Ed walked up to the desk and lifted a picture frame in his hands. The photograph showed three young men, Roy being one of them, all wearing the same white clothing; probably taken during the academy. He extended his arm to put the object back on its place, but something fell from it. The blonde teenager bent down to grab it; it was a picture of… Lieutenant Hawkeye?

…_Sleeping?_

That had to be the weirdest thing he had seen from her. He'd almost thought she didn't _need_ to sleep, which was obviously ridiculous. But how did the Colonel manage to get a picture of the Lieutenant in such vulnerable state without her consent? What a bastard!

Ed put the picture back where it fell from: hidden behind the one he had lifted. He wondered if there were any other concealed photos behind the ones that were publicly visible. After checking that Mustang wouldn't yet come out of the shower, he smirked and took another picture frame. Indeed, behind the innocent image of baby Elicia, there was the unauthorized, top secret, revealing picture of… again, Hawkeye? She was cooking something, wearing an apron; nothing out of the ordinary. He wondered why this picture would be hidden as well; maybe he just liked it a lot but didn't want other women to get jealous over it. Although it was a simple picture, really.

He looked inside other frames; it seemed like most of them actually had double content. Something wasn't right, though. Every single one of them, _every single one_, was a photograph of the First Lieutenant. Reading a book; hugging her dog; drinking from a cup. She had to be aware of the existence of these pictures; there was no doubt about it. As he surreptitiously spied on Mustang's collection, he thought what would be the reason behind this madness.

Was the Colonel obsessed with her? Was he so terribly infatuated with her that it wasn't enough to see her at work everyday, and needed to keep ordinary pictures of the woman?

Could he possibly be in love with her?

Edward snickered at the thought. How crazy was that?! And what would the Lieutenant think about it? Of course she wouldn't want to be with such a loud and arrogant idiot. Anyway, curiosity had taken the worst of him, and he continued his observations.

He lifted an eyebrow and neared the paper to his face. Yes, she definitely knew of these pictures. The next one he saw showed Colonel Mustang with an extended arm towards the camera (holding it, Ed guessed), with a stupid grin on his face as Lieutenant Hawkeye kissed his cheek.

Ed had no idea they were such good friends. Close co-workers, sure. But this was beyond any professional relationship. Suddenly he wanted to know all about them: how they met, how they got so close, how they talked when they were alone. He felt like a little girl wanting to know everything about her favorite actors, he couldn't believe himself.

He took another picture. He was already so into it he just couldn't stop. Mustang was also in this one; he held Lieutenant Hawkeye on his back, _piggyback-riding him_. What the hell?!

It had been taken right in this apartment, it seemed. All the photographs were taken either here or just one other place; the Lieutenant's, clearly.

He heard the faucets being turned off leaving him with little time, so he took two more of them; the last ones, he told himself. He froze. _No_. He _no longer_ wanted to know about them.

"Edward?"

He jumped with panic. That wasn't even Mustang's voice.

He turned around, slowly, scared, seriously fearing for his life. "Lieutenant Hawkeye?"

She was lying casually against a wall, decently dressed but with tired eyes and loose disheveled hair. Had she been here all along? "What are you doing here?"

"Uh…" He pointed a finger to the coffee table. "I brought the report," he said nervously, smiling wryly, hoping she wouldn't shoot him in the head when she found out.

"Thank you. And what's that in your hand?"

He flinched, and sweated, and wanted to run. "Well… uh, you'll see…"

She pursed her lips and walked up to him; he released the pictures and braced himself for an attack that didn't come. She simply stared at the pictures, all of them, quietly and expressionless.

"I'm so sor-"

"Edward."

He gulped. "…Yes?"

"You saw nothing."

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"You can go."

He wouldn't argue that. He left as fast as he could without even saying goodbye. It seemed like Lieutenant Hawkeye hadn't seen all the photographs, after all. Definitely not the one where she was with her back to the camera, wearing an apron, a shirt and… only underwear below it. And definitely neither the one where she was resting in the bathtub, no apparent clothes on and covered only by foam.

Roy entered the living room, fresh and clean. Ed was nowhere to be seen. Riza was up and looking gorgeous. He was ready for round two.

And Hawkeye was ready for a round, too. Of lead.


	7. Warmth

**Warmth**

The floor was incredibly cold, and her hot blood tried to become a twisted comfort as it slipped through her fingers and slid on the surface of her skin, but it wasn't enough; she was shivering. In the distance she still heard voices, his voice being the only one she wanted to hear. He was screaming, calling out to her; she could sense his worry.

With every drop of energy she had left, she guided him, told him what had to be done, sent him a glare with a meaning only he could decipher, for he was the only one who knew her so well.

He listened to her, he wouldn't perform human transmutation. She was relieved, at least he would get out of this unharmed. Help was on the way, they would make it. There was silence, then more shouting, then chaos.

Those sounds and yells and air currents could only mean there was a battle being held, and she was in the middle of it. She was helpless, she couldn't move, she couldn't assist him, she couldn't protect him.

She felt what she guessed was a pair of arms lifting her from the cement, and her hand fell from the spot it had been pressing on in her neck. Was she still bleeding, anyway? She was soaked in the dark red liquid; there had been a pool of it around her. But she was lying against something softer now, her arms loose, and her body was being shaken, left and right and left again. It was him, begging her to stay with him, a desperate voice asking her to hold herself together.

She couldn't answer him, though; not anymore. She was only partly here, her consciousness dissipating more and more as the seconds passed. She no longer had the strength necessary to keep her eyes open, and she was very afraid that he would fear the worst. She didn't want him to believe she had failed him; she was still alive, and she would obey his order. She hadn't abandoned him yet, and she wouldn't ever.

It was too painful, though. She heard him and understood him. But the pain was too great and she couldn't react. He was scared, he was utterly worried about her and wanted nothing but to see her alive. But his voice sounded far away, in the distance. He was right here, she knew, but she was sinking lower into the darkness, the distance between them impossibly grand and still growing.

She wished he wouldn't give up hope. She wanted him to insist; to keep calling her. He screamed her rank the way another one would scream his lover's name. It didn't matter; they weren't defined by the words they used to acknowledge each other, they were defined by what they felt. And what he felt was dread of losing his light, his conscious, his pillar, his very soul. And what she felt was a sadness that engulfed her wholly, not for herself but for him. She was breaking him when she had just saved him from himself. But how could she save him from this?

She returned to the floor; she didn't exactly grasp the reason for it until there was a bright light all around her, and she felt immediate relief and gained back her consciousness after it.

He lifted her again and hugged her tightly against his chest, burying his face in her hair, holding her close for dear life. She heard his heartbeat, strong and accelerated. It was no longer cold.

She opened her eyes.

"Colonel, I'm so sorry."

He fixed his eyes on hers. "No, don't speak. Just rest now."

She looked at him tiredly but her eyes shone with happiness; she had survived thanks to their deep connection. "You understood my signal. I'm not sure how… but I'm glad."

He smiled tenderly and she saw everything he wanted to say to her but couldn't. "We've been together long enough." She was as good at reading him as he was at reading her. He knew she could see it, the love; the unwavering, undying, immeasurable love he felt for her. "And besides, I know that glare... It means use human transmutation, and I'll shoot you."

She smiled and closed her eyes. She memorized this moment. Even soaked in her own blood she felt warm in his arms.

The war wasn't over, but they had won this battle.

She was alive. She was with him. She was safe.


End file.
